The Bravest Thing in L&D: Saying No

You get the email. A manager needs "communication skills training" for their team. They want it by next month. Can you make it happen?

Of course you can. You've done it a hundred times.

But here's the question you're not asking: will it actually work?

Not "will people attend?" or "will they enjoy it?" Will it change how that team communicates, three months from now, when nobody's watching?

Because if the answer is no, you're about to spend budget, time, and credibility on something that was never going to move the needle.

The order-taker trap

Most L&D professionals fall into a pattern. A request comes in. You scope it. You build it. You deliver it. You send a satisfaction survey. Everyone rates it 4.5 stars. You move on.

Six months later, nothing has changed. The same manager comes back with the same request, worded slightly differently.

This is the order-taker trap. It's not your fault. The system has trained you to say yes. To be helpful. To deliver what was asked.

But helpful isn't the same as effective. And delivering what was asked isn't the same as solving the problem.

The question you need to ask instead

Before you build anything, ask this:

"Is this actually a training problem?"

Nine times out of ten, the answer is more complicated than the request suggests.

The team doesn't need communication training. They need:

• Clearer expectations from their manager
• A process that doesn't force them to work around each other
• Feedback loops that don't take six months
• Permission to raise issues without being labelled "difficult"

Training can't fix a broken system. And when you try to use training as a bandage for organisational issues, you absorb the blame when nothing changes.

How to say no (without saying no)

You don't have to reject requests outright. But you do need to ask better questions before you say yes.

Try this: "I'd love to help. Before we scope the training, can I spend 15 minutes understanding the situation? I want to make sure we're solving the right problem."

Then dig:

• What does good performance look like? What does bad performance look like?
• How do people currently learn what's expected of them?
• What happens when someone communicates well? Is it recognised?
• What's getting in the way right now?

Half the time, these questions surface the real issue. And the real issue often isn't a knowledge gap.

The data that protects you

The best L&D professionals don't just ask these questions. They collect evidence.

Before any training investment, they assess:

• Is this a skill deficit? Do people genuinely not know how to do this?
• Are there environmental barriers? Are processes, tools, or systems blocking performance?
• Will managers support the change? Or will learners go back to a team that ignores what they learned?

With this data, you can make a recommendation:

• Green light: The conditions for transfer exist. Training will likely work.
• Amber light: Fix the environmental issues first, then train.
• Red light: Training isn't the solution. But here's what is.

This isn't just good practice. It's protection. When you have evidence, you're not the person who "couldn't make the training stick." You're the person who identified the real problem before money was wasted.

The L&D professional as performance consultant

This is the shift. From order-taker to consultant. From "yes, I'll build that" to "let me make sure this investment pays off."

It takes courage. It means pushing back on requests from people more senior than you. It means saying "no" when everyone expects "yes."

But it's also how you become indispensable.

Because the L&D professional who saves the company from a failed training initiative is worth more than the one who delivered it on time and on budget.

The business doesn't need more courses. It needs interventions that actually work.

Be the person who makes that happen.